


Orphans Club

by slayertown



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fingering, First Date, Laughter, One-Shot, Smut, carlcarton_everlastinglove.mp3, disco diner, ear licking, eat garlic on the first date so you know it's real, first fic alert, hot pie as meetcute, orphan bond, team 0 to 100 real quick, what if gendrya but happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-08
Updated: 2019-09-08
Packaged: 2020-11-02 00:14:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20556260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slayertown/pseuds/slayertown
Summary: Now that Arya’s meeting Gendry in person, one thing is clear. Hot Pie is a scammer. “Not like your picture” is supposed to be a bad thing. Gendry’s materialized almost in spite of that.Disco, french fries, and backseats happen.🕺🍟🚙





	Orphans Club

**Author's Note:**

> The song featured is Everlasting Love by Carl Carlton: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u3AXKjlH4rQ
> 
> The lyrics are *extremely* corny, but it's more the beat and melody that matters to the story. It is an absolute BANGER. A mood-lifter. A hip-shaker. Please listen to it at some point. It brightens your SOUL.

_If I don’t laugh, I go home._

Arya repeats the rule to herself as she approaches the diner. It’s a 70's themed spot with glossy red and white booths, checkered floors, and Diana Ross record sleeves on the walls. Neither of them had been here before, but it’s got good reviews and the approval of Hot Pie, their mutual friend who set them up on account of _“you both like to joke about beating me up.”_

Hot Pie took the liberty of showing off their pictures to one another. Without letting them choose. He told Arya he sent this _Gendry_ of his the one of her trying the wolf breads at his bakery last month. It wouldn’t have been her choice since she had just gotten out of archery class that day, looking flushed and sweaty with her flyaways untamed. But what can you do.

All of Hot Pie’s contact pictures for his friends are just them posing with his pastries. He thinks there’s no way a human could look hotter. So when he sticks his screen in Arya’s face to make his case, she sees a bit of a deer in the headlights. Dark eyebrows are tugging a pair of pesky blue eyes open while a cookie hangs out of the guy’s mouth like he’s a pissed off puppy. One hand’s stretched out in an effort to block the camera, as one does in response to Hot Pie’s antics.

Now that Arya’s meeting Gendry in person, one thing is clear. Hot Pie is a scammer.

“Not like your picture” is supposed to be a bad thing. Gendry’s materialized almost in spite of that. His jaw is so much more defined without a baked good shoved into it, and his black hair falls softly above his eyes in a way that Arya relents is actually quite pretty.

“So… Hot Pie says you and I are tied for most amount of physical threats lodged against him?”

“Oh, yeah,” he shrugs with his hands tucked into his jean pockets. “That’s just a bit about how we met,” he says to his feet. “Back in high school, some jock types were picking on him, so I stepped in, made sure he was all right."

"That was really—"

"I don’t actually want to hurt him. He just, well, you know Hot Pie. He talks a lot.”

_He’s sweet, _she thinks.

The hostess brings them to their booth along with a couple of waters. Their table is a shadow box of technicolor glitter, chunky daisies, and anti-war postcards. There’s a kitschy little jukebox at the edge of the table, flush against the wall, that they’re told is actually how they place their order remotely.

They stare at each for a second, trading half smiles. Gendry’s dressed simply, a black leather jacket over a white v-neck, and Arya wishes there was just a little more going on so she could compliment _something_ other than his body.

He beats her to it.

“I like your necklace. I know this sounds corny, but it really does match your eyes nicely.”

“Thanks,” she says as she thumbs the sword charm on her silver chain. “It was a gift from my dad, may he rest is peace.”

Arya’s never been one to say may anyone rest in anything. Let alone out loud and in reference to her late father. Outside her family or support group, talking about her dad has only ever made the room slouch around her. She looks at Gendry like she’s dropped her phone in the toilet and needs to plunge her arm in to get it out before the water seeps in all the way.

"Oh,” his face falls a bit. “I’m sorry to hear—“

“Don’t be,” she covers with a wave of her hand. She’s going to put this conversation in rice. “It’s been a few years now. I’m good about all that.”

“I hear you… Me too, actually,” he offers like a confession. “Though I didn’t really know him.”

The words ride as they look at each other. Her teeth in her bottom lip, his smile shy and thin. Neither ask for anything else.

She looks down before she leans forward and holds her palm out towards his shoulder. He gets it. 

A high five. 

“Didn’t realize we were holding Dead Dad Club meetings today,” she raises an eyebrow in jest as she tips her drink at him.

“You’re the one who called it to order. I hope you don’t mind a double enrollment in Dead Mom Club though.”

Her face drops in mock frustration. 

“Dude. Quit it.” Because she has no choice but to hold up her other palm across the table now. He doesn’t even have to look to hit it. 

That makes high ten. 

And she can’t go home now because she’s laughing so stupidly with him and her shoulders aren’t just unwound, they’re bouncing, and his cheeks are going red off of a sip of water, and does it count as her hand running through his hair if he’s using the one he just touched hers with? There’s a math theorem for this. 

“All right,” Arya tries to get them back on track. “Garlic fries or buffalo wings?”

“Why did you say ‘or’ when you meant ‘and’?” 

The alternative to nervous is supposed to be confident. Not... whatever blushing is.

Arya goes to the little jukebox order machine and presses the codes for each item. G-1, B-2. It lights up with a ding and cuts off the song overhead. The lights dim and black lights go up, revealing a mess of day-glo all over the place. A twinkling chorus of oo’s fill the restaurant before ushering in a commanding disco beat. 

“Holy shit what is happening.” Gendry recoils from the machine like it’s haunted. A server coming down the aisle starts sashaying in their direction and makes _come here_ motions with their hands. “Oh no.”

“Do you want to dance?” she chances. 

His cheeks are red for a different reason now. “Oh, I don’t dance.”

“Neither do I. But. I’m kind of having a lot of fun not being myself right now.” 

That gets his shoulders to relax, an easy smile creeping back onto his face. She holds her hand out palm up. He takes it. 

The servers caught with free hands on the floor are already doing their best disco fingers and swimmer moves. A sprinkle of patrons are up too while the rest of the house is turning their heads in every direction. It’s unclear if the elderly couple singing along are regulars here or if they just really want everyone to know this is their _song_. 

_Where life's river flows_  
_No one really knows_  
_'Til someone's there to show_  
_The way to lasting love!_  
_Like the sun that shines_  
_Endlessly it shines_  
_You always will be mine  
_ _This eternal love! _

Arya’s wearing a slate blue bomber jacket over a form-fitting black dress, so she’s not going to do anything dramatic. She lets herself giggle while she bounces from side to side. Gendry moves his elbows together from one side of his body to the other, snapping to the drum while his head does a loose shimmy. 

“Are you— Gendry, are you doing the Carlton right now?” 

He doesn’t stop. “Isn’t this Carl Carlton? I’m just following proper etiquette.” The way his arms lift up make the bottom hem of his shirt follow and Arya can’t help but peek at the vee underneath.

“Aw, I’d laugh at you if this weren’t actually kind of cute.” 

He leans close enough for her to take in the scent of fresh linen. “You’re already laughing.”

_Open up your eyes_  
_Then you'll realize_  
_Here I stand with my  
_ _Everlasting love!_

Arya watches his lips shrink as she shoves him away. Then she unzips her jacket to better copy his movements, snapping in an exaggerated manner so it’s like her whole body is laughing with him. 

_Real love will last forever._

As the song fades out, there’s some house applause for the magic jukebox while Arya and Gendry gesture their claps at each other’s faces, calling it a draw in their duel of Carltons.

They sit and drink water with their eyes locked, smiling into the curve of their cups, still high off their impromptu diner disco.

When the server brings their food, they have to ask.

“Excuse me, what was”—Gendry circles his finger at the rest of the diner—“_that_ just now?”

The server looks delighted he asked. “That’s just a little something special we do around here! It looks like our host seated you at our lucky ducky table,” they wink.

“It’s just ours that does that?” 

“Only when you first order. Can’t have that going all night. Just wanna surprise you enough to brickedy break that ice clean open! Now, can I get you anything else?”

“Yeah, no, thank you, thanks, that was so, thanks-“ He looks back at his date with his brows creased and mouth open. She’s already halfway chipmunk cheeked with fries. 

“‘M good,” the chipmunk mumbles. 

“Well, enjoy! I’ll leave your island alone now, so flag this plane down if you need something!” 

“Yeah, will, uh, flag.” His mouth is still open as his brain catches up to his eyes and ears. He blinks. 

Arya picks up another fry and just inserts it between his teeth like a vending machine note. “We were that obvious, huh? And I thought I was playing it so cool.” 

“You were.” The fry bobs with his chin. “After a rough start.”

“Hey!” A second fry arrives at his face.

“Whoa! What kind of date starts throwing shit?”

“The bad kind,” she pouts.

He picks up a hot wing and pretends he’s going to toss it at her, the threat of which makes her flinch. She scoffs.

“Believe me, you’re leagues away from being a bad date, Arya.”

***

The bereaved will never ask someone else for the opportunity, but they love to dote on their ghosts. The atmosphere must be prepped like an altar though, safe and closed.

“So what was your mother like? I know you said you didn’t know your dad, but what about her?”

“Oh, she was… she was a sweet woman. What I remember about her, I remember fondly—I was like 10 when it happened. She worked as a waitress at a bar where she would perform sometimes. I don’t know if it was just my kid brain, but I swear she was the best singer.”

They trade stories as bones pile.

***

When they exit the restaurant, Arya digs through her bag for a tin of mints and pops one in her mouth. Gendry must be worried about the same thing because he asks for one before she can offer it. 

“Oh, I’ve got buffalo breath. Could I?”

“Of course.” Arya turns to face his chest and takes another oblong tablet out of the tin. She looks directly into his eyes as she places it firmly between her front teeth and holds it there. The tin shuts. 

This is the kind of bait worth falling for.

He leans down as she comes up on her toes, placing his hands on her waist to steady her as she fists his shirt collar and pulls him the rest of the distance. Their lips seal each other’s as her tongue guides the mint into his mouth. The crisp sensation makes them chuckle. Arya slides her arms around his neck and Gendry’s hands go to the small of her back, warmth twinkling between them. Gendry’s tongue returns the favor and plays in her mouth, tucking itself underneath hers to steal her own mint. The maneuver is a little sloppy, but when he pulls away, she’s giggling.

“Hey, give that back.” She moves to kiss him again, but he cranes his neck around her instead. 

“No,” he teases as he sprinkles small kisses down her neck. He sucks on a spot that makes her hum, and she grips into his biceps. Gendry was shy to dance in front of everyone at the start of the evening, but has no problem working a hickey into her on the other side of the glass where a family of four is seated inside. 

When she breaks away it’s only to ask which one of them is parked closer to where they’re standing.

Arya climbs into his backseat first and as soon as Gendry closes the door, she’s straddling his lap. She runs her nails up the sides of his hair and then back down to hold his jaw up to her. He’s looking at her with his lips parted, eyes glazed in near worship.

They practically spar. Her jacket goes. Then his. His hands run up the sides of her thighs, so she moves them to cup her ass. She grinds into him, so he squeezes his grip on her. She tugs the straps of her dress down to let her breasts fall out, so he—

He stills. “You’re beautiful, Arya,” he swallows as his eyes trace up and down. “I wanted to tell you that when I saw you. Now I look like an ass saying it with your top down.”

She pulls his shirt off at that and runs her hands up his abs, settling on his pecs. “You’re beautiful, too, Gendry.”

With her mouth on his again, he lays her down across the leather seats. Arya lets her hand drift down to rub the hardened length through his jeans. His lips trail down her sternum before taking a nipple in his mouth with greed, his hand rubbing and groping at the other. Arya moans in agreement and her fingers tighten in his hair.

Soon she feels his hand hover over her underwear and his head comes back up to hers. “Can I?”

She nods, panting as she takes his hand from between her legs and brings it to her mouth. She sucks up to the base of his index and middle fingers before drawing them out with a smack of her lips. “Yes.”

Their foreheads touch and he looks into her as he parts her lips and enters. When he curls his fingers and pumps, she caves and closes her eyes to savor the pleasure. He kisses up her jaw and her cheek, letting his breath go hot against her ear as he begins to whisper. _“I want to lick you down there. I want to taste how wet you are. I want your clit to go numb underneath my tongue.” _

Her body squirms at his filth and a whimper escapes at the thought of what he isn’t doing. He shifts to the other side of her head, kissing her temple before he continues. _“Do you want me to show you? Do you want me to show you against your soft little ear?”_

_“Please.”_

The skin is so sensitive and untouched there. The wet line he draws on the outer edge of her ear shocks her body into a tight gasp. Her senses fire to both pull away from how it tickles and lean closer into how it excites and wets her. When he traces the inner folds, her walls contract around the fingers that are still moving inside her. His tongue then flicks up and down in rapid movements—the feeling of it intensified by the lewd, squishing sounds of moisture that are so loud in her head now. It’s overwhelming.

With mercy, the sounds cease, and her focus brings in the slick fingers now over her clit. He rubs in small, firm circles, instilling rhythm back to her scattered breath.

_“Press harder,”_ she pleads, and he obliges. Her back arches into the mounting pressure and she grabs for any kind of stability—on the door handle, against his hip, along the flesh of his shoulder blades. Heat shoots up her core as she peaks in agonized gratitude.

He presses soft kisses along her collarbone as the heavy rise and fall of her chest slows to a calm. When she has herself again, she brings his face with both of her hands to kiss, tender and melting.

They sit up together and she bites his bottom lip. “You’re an asshole, you know that.” Her voice is still hushed and uneven. “Why didn’t you just eat me out if you were going to show off anyway?”

“Had to leave you wanting _something_ if we’re going to do this again, didn’t I?” He starts to put his shirt back on. “Besides, it wasn’t really ideal in here, spatially.” He helps string her arms back through her dress straps. “If you’d like to come over to mine, I’d love to continue.”

“Good,”—she holds his shaft through his pants—“because there’s plenty more I want from you.”

***

Gendry holds her hand as he walks her to her car and gives her his address in case she gets separated following him the way there. Arya peeks into the diner just as another couple is being seated at the booth with the jukebox. Her free hand smacks his chest to attention. “Wait wait wait"—_smack, smack, smack_—"we have to see this.”

“Oh, they’re in for it.”

The couple must want to order drinks because they go to the jukebox right away. The diner’s glow-in-the-dark mode startles them, and they both shake their heads at each other. Even when the servers try to egg them on, they don’t move.

“Ow.”

Arya laughs at them. It gets her a questioning look from Gendry. “What? Don’t you see? That could’ve been us.”

“That was us. We sat there.”

She steps in front of him to clasp her hands around his neck. His hands go to her waist on reflex. “No it wasn’t, stupid. We high fived. And then we danced.” She sways as if she can hear the song again. “The rest of the night we owe to that.”

He leans down and kisses her as if to say goodnight, like she’s not going to be in his arms again within the half hour. It doesn’t deter him when she smiles into his lips.

_If I don’t laugh, I go home._

_Look where I end up when I do._

**Author's Note:**

> If you got through it, thank you! This is my first fic, so I'd love feedback on anything (especially writing advice like the use of dialogue tags; did I... do it right?). 
> 
> I have a multichapter Arya and Gendry x Greek mythology fic planned that I'm very excited for. I'm trying to use one-shots for practice as I flesh that out. But if you liked this or like Greek myths, stay tuned! I'd appreciate it!
> 
> Dance, eat junk food, and try new things in bed! Okay bye!!
> 
> [@harrenhollaback](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/harrenhollaback/) on tumblr


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